The Last Door
by Hearts A Mess
Summary: A closed door can lead to infinite possibilities, for better or worse. Harry is back for his 7th year, and the final tasks are at hand. But who is best to choose to be by your side in the very end? HHR.
1. Grimmuald Thoughts

**A/N: This is an old fic that I'm currently revamping after 2 years of hiatus. If there any timeline discrepancies that I have overlooked, please don't hesitate to call me on it. I've always sworn to finish it, so... here it goes.**

* * *

It had become painfully obvious to Harry that every emotion or thought that ran through his mind had been dulled to an echo. Being only weeks after leaving Hogwarts, he had spent another lonely sentence at Privet Drive, only sharing birthday wishes by post at midnight. But that afternoon, Moody had arrived at the front door, much to the distress of Vernon and Petunia due to his rapidly swiveling eye, and shuffled him out unceremoniously. He had hopefully left the Dursley's for good. But this was a time when things were never certain, and Harry's experience with hope tended to let him down.

He was grateful although to have stayed at Grimmuald Place for the remainder of his summer. It would have been at the Burrow once he had come of age, but Arthur and Molly's time invested in the Order had become a full time job to the point where they had considered moving into Grimmuald Place. With Harry's consent of course.

_Sometimes their too damn considerate_, he thought with a familiar feeling of guilt, thinking of their unwavering hospitality during the years since his friendship with Ron. Now though, he had spent weeks within Grimmuald Place entirely alone.

He looked over at the pile of letters from Ron and Hermione, the biggest pile he ever had as a matter of fact. Hermione's was currently outdoing Ron's however; the parchment in her smooth handwriting teetering to the point where it looked like only magic was holding it up.

_They'll be here_, he kept telling himself. His stomach clenched again, reflecting over the past few weeks. Things had not gone according to plan, but they were coming back. Ron and Hermione always did. He knew that they would always risk their own safety for him; the Chosen One.

"Ugh!"

Disgust had risen up inside over the media name given to him because of the prophecy. He seized a balled up pair of socks that he had intended to pack into his trunk, and chucked it at the blank canvas on the wall.

"Oh very mature, is this how you handle your responsibility?" The snide voice of Phineas came from the canvas.

Harry seethed and turned away to start packing his cauldron into his trunk. As a treat to himself after his birthday, he had produced a sleeping draught to keep away the nightmares.

"Someday, I'm going to paint a house elf over you."

"Touché, _Master_ Potter. I'd be more worried about who's at the front door."

Because of the terrible screams issuing from Mrs. Black's portrait every time the doorbell rang, Lupin had disabled the doorbell, allowing guests to enter the headquarters almost unnoticed from others within the manor. Still, the knock was loud enough.

_Hermione._

Almost dropping his copy of _A Compendium of Advanced Charms_ on his foot, Harry dashed out of his room and collided with Tonks in the hall.

"Wotcher, Harry!"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" He repeated distractedly as he sidestepped her blinding pink hair and down to the first landing.

Hermione was already in the foyer, tipping her trunk against the wall while being greeted by Remus Lupin. She had a slight tan to her cheeks and seemed to have lost weight; something that immediately alarmed him. Despite the sunglow, she carried a heavy look about her, the type seen most commonly with members of the Order.

Harry ran down the flight, almost losing his balance on the remaining stair, leaving little time to stop in front of her. He did so, managing inches from her and so quickly that she had an alarmed look on her face for fear of being knocked over. After a moment, a grin split over his features and he grabbed her in a hug.

"Glad you're here."

She smiled back, taking in his appearance as she stepped away. "Me too. How is everything?"

"Okay so far," he said while taking her bag and leading her upstairs to the guest rooms. "Everyone is here now, or on their way- even Fred and George stopped by this morning. I think people believe this place is a safe house from the wizarding world. But if you had come yesterday, you would have seen McGonagall. Turns out the ministry has done something right for once; they're having her become Headmistress of Hogwarts." Harry's mind started to race and found that he couldn't stop talking while Hermione walked around the quarters and arranged her belongings, opened windows, and finally sat down in a chair next to an old marble washbasin.

"And Ron's been driving Molly mad by not sending letters every other day. He's lucky though. Sounds like he's taking an interest in dragons, or at least training them-"

"Harry, is everything alright?" she said quite plainly.

"Wha-?" He paused for a moment, staring at her. Then in a defeated tone, "Oh, it's just…I haven't really seen anyone since…you know, I decided to go back to Hogwarts. Ron's been in Romania with Charlie, and you in Italy… I mean, there really isn't anyone else to talk to here."

"And you do know that I had to be there, right?" she gave him a sad look.

Harry felt the familiar guilt feeling rise quickly in his chest. "Yes. Of course I know you had to go, it's just…" he couldn't finish. Being painfully honest wasn't ever his strong suit.

She fidgeted with the sleeve of her shirt and stared out the window, her voice distant. "Things are so hard now…" She snapped out of her gaze and stood up suddenly, walking over to Harry. "But I'm here now, and you can always count on Ron and I- for whatever it is." She had that familiar, hard calculating look in her eyes that Harry was glad to see.

"I want him dead and gone, Harry."

Only the members of the Order of the Phoenix would have immediately understood whom she was speaking of. As his mortal enemy, Harry knew how she felt, the unspoken menace always in the front of his mind. "Glad to hear it. I was about to ask the Creevy brothers if they were up to the challenge, in case you and Ron never got back."

Hermione let a smile spread over her features and slapped him on the chest playfully. "When does Ron get here, anyway?"

"Later tonight, with Charlie."

"Good, then you can tell us both why were going back to Hogwarts. Can I get something to eat? I'm famished."

Harry smiled, "Sure, I think Mrs. Weasley is in the kitchen anyway. She told me to send you in once you got here." He opened the door and led her out and back down the stairs again.

Rounding the corner and through the kitchen archway, wonderful smells reached their senses as they saw Mrs. Weasley gracefully moving from oven to stove, and back to a pile of leafy greens that she was cutting.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione.

"Hermione dear!" she exclaimed while stowing her wand and rushing over to scoop her up in a motherly hug. "Oh honey, how are you getting along? Arthur and I were so worried when we heard about your aunt in Florence- the Order even considered going down there to see what could be done…."

Harry wrestled with the sinking feeling that he had had all summer as Hermione explained her travels to Mrs. Weasley. Her aunt, as Hermione had recently discovered within the last two years, was a witch of high reputation and was a curator within old wizarding archives of Italy. She was only able to visit her aunt twice since the recent connection, and in the process was developing a genealogy of the Granger family with her. After only a week into summer vacation, Hermione and her family rushed down to Florence upon hearing of dementor attacks at the library. Hermione's aunt, Genevieve was among those found dead.

"What of the Italian Ministry?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"They couldn't do much more than cover up the attacks," said Hermione quietly. "My parents had to organize the estate, she was so young and she didn't have a will or anything…"

"I see… well, sit yourself down and rest. I'm sure you and Harry have a lot of catching up to do, and Ron will be in later on -thank goodness- and I daresay Hagrid is returning from his assignment with Madame Maxime, things are still rough with the giants…" Mrs. Weasley continued talking as she turned back to the food. Harry and Hermione sat down at the long scarred oak table and were soon joined by Lupin.

Hermione spoke over the clatter of plates being magically set on the table, "How are you Professor?"

"Hardly a professor anymore, Hermione. Please call me Remus," he replied with a grin. "Glad to see you're fairing well. Harry here has been going spare over how long you and Ron have been gone."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the food that Molly was laying on the table. Baked potatoes, tossed summer salad, and a side of tomato bisque, including pear compote that sat covered; Harry's hunger could see the tendrils of aroma seeping through the linen. He realized that he was finally starting to relax since Hermione had returned, and that Ron was showing up later that night. With the prospect that both of his best friends were going to be there with him yet again, made his heart warm.

* * *

As the evening wore on, Hermione showed Harry some the books that she had inherited from her aunt's estate. It was late, nearly midnight, and Ron and Charlie still hadn't arrived yet.

"Harry, you should have seen the place. It was older than Hogwarts and _the books_…" Her eyes clouded over with memory. "There were hundreds of thousands of them. Books about the first spells, first potions, even ones on horcruxes."

Harry snapped his head up from the book he was reading to look at her. "Really? I thought you couldn't-" He looked around at the piles of books that Hermione had brought back with her from the archive in Italy. Indeed some of them were quite amazing, defining the first documentation of spells and wizards, some even containing killing curses that Harry had never heard of.

"While I was there, I picked up on the family tree that I was working on with my aunt- a kind of project just reserved for the times I was there…I was trying to get my mind off things by doing research, when I noticed that my aunt had made notes on my progress. One that stood out was a comment about my mother's side, suggesting that I 'recheck' this theory I had about my ancestors immigrating from France. It was strange because she helped me with all of this research and she didn't second guess herself."

Harry was starting to lean forward with interest, "Did you find something?"

"Yes," she said, still amazed on her luck. "As I said before, the library is enormous, comparable to the size of Hogwarts even though many levels are below ground to keep out sunlight. I checked the reference again, but this time another book had replaced the one before entirely. Something I believe that she wanted only me to find."

Hermione pulled out a book wrapped in linen and handed it to him. "When I opened it…hissed at me."

Harry peeled off the linen and felt the hard leather cover, and to his surprise a long snake ran down the spine. He looked up at Hermione, practically speechless.

"Ironically enough, the Horcrux spell was developed by a Parselmouth. I couldn't read a lot of it because some of the writing is Parseltounge. Which is amazing because there are no written documents that have the actual _language_ of Parseltounge. I'm thinking that the book tells of a way to destroy Horcruxes, as well as to make them...even the history would be helpful…" She caught his gaze; "Maybe even a way to determine weakness, if that becomes the case."

"Hermione…this is the best thing I could've hoped for. But how did your aunt know about this?"

She was quiet for a few moments, looking at the book he held in his hands. "I think she knew, Harry. I think that she pieced it together how Voldemort was alive all these years. She also knew that you were a friend of mine. With Dumbledore…well, I think she knew you needed help."

"And we wonder where your brains came from."

Hermione smiled a little and could tell that he was still trying to distract her from Ron's late arrival. "It's yours to keep," she said, suddenly sighing with hopelessness. "Oh, _where_ is Ron?"

Harry rewrapped the book and stowed it in his trunk. He helped Hermione off the floor and looked at the clock, "Lets go downstairs and see if there's any news."

As they opened the door, a babble of talk reached their ears from the kitchen below. The two exchanged glances as they hurried downstairs and across the floorboards.

"No mum, really, they know what their doing there-"

"He's right Molly, there isn't anything to get worked up about."

"Nothing to get worked up about?! _Would you look at him?_ And you! Charles Arturus Weasley! I thought you would have known better!"

Harry and Hermione rounded the corner to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looking over Ron and Charlie. It was apparent that the two had taken no more than two steps outside of the floo before Mrs. Weasley's shock sunk in.

Ron had gained another inch or two, but his difference was in his size. His clothes were ripped in many places, not bothering to buy new ones, and he only carried a single duffel that was still slung over his shoulder. His hair was short, but upon close inspection one could see that the ends had singed.

"These are work clothes! It doesn't mean that I scrapped with a dragon every day!" A flush was beginning to climb up Ron's face and he tried to look over at Charlie for backup. As he did, he caught sight of the two in the entrance.

"Harry! Hermione!"

Mrs. Weasley was about to interject, but Arthur put a hand on her shoulder and started to converse with Charlie. Ron ran over and scooped up Hermione first, swinging her around off the ground.

"Ron- please!" Hermione managed through laughs as he put her down.

Ron then turned to Harry and clapped him on the back. "Good to see ya, mate!" He said as well as shaking Harry's hand.

Harry's grin widened, "Practicing being fashionably late?"

"Oi, don't start. I take it you didn't hear half of this mess," Ron said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. Mrs. Weasley was still looking shrewdly over at Ron as if not willing to forgive him just yet.

"Ah, she just was worried," Harry motioned to the library as Ron threw an arm around them both. "Come on, we wanna hear all about the summer."

The trio climbed up the stairs together, Harry feeling that Grimmuald Place was suddenly becoming a lot like the home he always wanted to inherit.


	2. The Changes

**A/N: Warning! angst!Harry makes an appearance. Couldn't be ignored. So does 'Mione', but I promise not to abuse it. **

* * *

Harry was sitting in the bay window of his room, looking out over the view that was deceivingly real. Like the Ministry, the windows of Grimmuald Place were magicked to create the illusion of solitude, but Harry had long since guessed that the view of the area was what the house once resided in.

A thick tangle of trees was off to the side of the house but soon broke off to frame a dirt road that passed close to the entrance. Beyond that was a meadow swathed in fog in the approaching dawn. As his gaze wandered, the discussion he had had with Ron and Hermione played over in his mind.

* * *

Three ripped open envelopes lay on Harry's bed; two of them containing Head badges and a third for Prefect of Hogwarts. It had taken a few minutes of congratulations and I-told-you-so's while Hermione was jumping for joy as she read aloud every word of her letter. The other Head badge was for Harry, who was slightly dumbstruck as he looked down at it while Ron clapped him on the back.

Ron laughed at his expression, "What are you worried about? We practically run the school anyway! This just makes it official." He grinned and polished his badge. The trio had settled down into Harry's room, catching up on the missed summer months.

"Man Harry, you should've seen those things- well, not to say that you haven't, I mean with the tournament and all. But working there with Charlie made me realize how mad Hagrid was to think he could bring up a dragon on his own."

"What did you do there?" asked Hermione.

"Ah, kids stuff…shoveling dung and collecting scales for potion supplies…nothing that exciting. I learned loads though! Hey- did you know that an iris of a dragon is used in the Draught of Living Death?" Ron asked with a satisfied air.

Hermione barely suppressed rolling her eyes as she glanced at Harry. It wasn't so long ago that the three of them had tried to produce the same potion in Professor Slughorn's class. Harry in return gave her a supportive nod as if to say, 'Just let him have it this one time.'

Hermione put a quizzical look on her face and said, "No, I didn't know that."

But the fact that she had admitted to not knowing something made Harry break out into a suspicious fit of coughs. Ron smiled at his rarely obtained status and changed his focus to Harry.

"Well?"

"What?" Harry replied off guard.

Ron rolled his eyes, "You were gonna tell us about why we're going back to Hogwarts?"

"Oh, right…" At first, he didn't know how to start, but like he had heard before; the beginning was best. "Well, when I was working with Dumbledore, we made the assumption that since Riddle had made horcruxes out of the ring, the diary, and the locket of Slytherin, as well as the tea cup of Hufflepuff, that it wouldn't be beyond the thought of a horcrux for something of Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Not to mention the fact that Riddle was anxious to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. He _knows_ that Hogwarts is the most secure place, besides Gringotts."

"Five horcruxes?" said Hermione. She was speaking slowly, and Harry could tell the gears were whirring behind her narrowed eyes.

"Dumbledore also thought that his snake Nagini was one."

"Well that makes sense; an overgrown snake," Ron agreed as he leaned against Harry's bedpost.

"And Voldemort himself," stated Hermione. She turned fully to where Harry was leaning against the fireplace. The room was cast in a soft glow by the dying flames, but the approaching darkness wasn't what was worrying her. "_Seven_. Harry…" she got up and walked over to where he was standing, making sure that she was in front of the fire that was consuming his attention.

She started in a quiet voice, not really remembering that Ron was on the far side of the room. "Seven is the most magical of all numbers. To destroy a horcrux is to give mortality to its maker, _but seven_? That's something that nobody knows the result of."

Harry nodded at her theory; of course he had thought about it, of course he had no idea what would happen. Her outline was glowing from the fire, and he could tell that she was waiting for something more.

"But you're not sure about one of them..."

He looked directly into her eyes, not wanting to draw it out any longer. "'One cannot live while the other survives.'"

* * *

Harry sighed again and rubbed his face, his features slowing taking on highlight from the rising sun. What had followed that, he should've known; they both went into a right state:

* * *

"_What?"_ asked Ron, his mouth dropping open.

To his surprise, the fire behind Hermione flared with a sudden gust. "Don't you _dare_ say that, Harry!"

He kept his voice calm, "What? Overlook the possibility? Even you couldn't do that Hermione."

"Harry that's nutters," said Ron, walking over to where the other two stood. "If there was a piece of V-Voldemort's soul inside of you, I'd think you'd know it. Really mate…it's just- nutters." Ron had gained Harry's undivided attention with the simple statement. First of all, Ron had said Riddle's name. Secondly, he could understand that even though there was a connection between himself and Voldemort, it did not necessarily mean that a piece of Riddle was inside of him. But the prophecy was still in his head, and he remembered the conversation he had with Dumbledore about its meaning:

"There is only one thing that Voldemort cannot do, that you can-"

"I know! I can love!" he'd replied with frustration.

But was that really 'the power the dark lord knows not'? Harry couldn't bring himself to believe it.

The room was dark again, and even though the trio were standing close together; Harry could tell that Ron had gone pale and Hermione was holding back tears. She stood unmoving however, with her arms folded across her chest, "I think that's what he's counting on…for you to believe that, Harry."

* * *

The sun had risen as a fuzzy white ball through the dense fog that still covered the horizon. Harry conjured a cup of tea on the window ledge, watching the tendrils of steam that flowed upwards. Were they right? Or were they all completely off track with assuming that it wasn't another inanimate object that belonged to Hogwarts? He had also felt that his friends had changed dramatically, whether it was on the spot, or over their time apart.

There was a soft knock on the door. "It's open," he answered, picking up his mug.

Hermione stepped inside closing the door behind her. He could tell she hadn't slept either; she was still wearing her jeans and white blouse from the day before. Her hair was long now, falling past her shoulder blades. She had started wearing an old silver locket that was intricately engraved which caught the increasing sunlight.

"Morning," he said, not wanting to start with the obvious topic. But then he knew Hermione better than to expect her to just drop the subject.

"You've been up all night, haven't you?"

He nodded. She leaned against the opposite side of the windowsill, facing him. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking you're right, as always."

"I'm not always right. I just have the habit of looking from a logical point of view. You and Ron tend to trust you're guts, that's why your so good at defense...but then again, Ron also trusts you."

"You trust me? Enough to follow me through this?"

She huffed and rolled her eyes, "Bloody hell, Harry. Do you even have to ask?" He raised an eyebrow at her uncharacteristic language. "Your doubting yourself, with Dumbledore gone, aren't you?"

That was a question that he hadn't expected; almost shocking all of the tiredness out of him. "Well, of course- I mean…"

He trailed off and turned to Hermione. His friends _had_ changed. His time in Grimmauld Place had reminded him of how Sirius had been cooped up, with no options. He felt as if he had no choices, and each day he was beginning to see that he didn't have much control over his life as he had when Dumbledore and Sirius were around. Things were slowly becoming too black and white, and all that he had left of his life before Voldemort was Ron and Hermione. As grateful as he was that they were there, a pressure was beginning to form against his heart, telling him that the danger for them was now even greater...and that he still had the chance of getting them away from harm.

He felt a boiling anger mixed with helplessness and heard the words spilling from his mouth, sounding like a final verbal confirmation that his fears were growing.

"How could I not feel that way? So much was withheld from me- I didn't trust you and Ron- I mean- I was so sure, so _ready_, and then there I was at the Ministry- endangering everyone! Even though you doubted everything, you we're still there. Everyone was there- because of me. Sirius was only there because of _me_. And Dumbledore, he believed in me- _and where did that get him_?"

His voice had risen to a shout and Hermione cast a silencing charm over the room. She waited for him to finish. His voice came out quiet now, a pained whisper that Hermione hadn't heard before.

"My parents. Cedric. Sirius. Even you almost…And now Dumbledore. All I can think of is that it's because of me. And when is it going to end? How is it that there is so much hatred in the world? I'm starting to think that I can't _stand_ it." Harry stared at the dregs of his tea, willing his emotions back down.

"And now this-" he made an erratic hand gesture, "this _treasure hunt_ for horcruxes that I _don't know_ how to destroy. Then fighting _him_, with his army of Death Eaters, without Dumbledore, just me…and even then… is that the end of it? Where does it end? Can you please tell me where it ends?"

Harry looked up at her. She had carefully hidden her expressions until now; a look of ultimate sadness and fear stamped her features that was accentuated by the dark circles around her eyes.

"You can't think that way, Harry. You just can't," she took a step closer to him and put a hand on his arm. She was trying to get him to look her in the eye, even though her lower lip was trembling. "As a person, are you anything like Voldemort?"

"No," he replied dully.

"Then stop taking credit for his actions."

"Hermione-"

"I could tell you a thousand times in a thousand different ways that you're not to blame for any of those things. Ron and I and so many others always had the choice of not facing this war, but when it came face to face with us, do you think our decision to fight was solely based on you being there? _No._ And you better come to terms with that."

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was why he needed his friends here; getting in his face about his guilt at five in the morning. It was a few minutes before he let a small smile escape, "Like I said 'Mione, you're right, as always."

She let her features relax and rolled her eyes, muttering "'Mione?" while she pulled him into a hug. Harry could smell the smoke from the fire she sat by all night, along with the remaining scent of a fragrant, spicy tea. Hermione let go and faced him again, "Get some sleep if you can, we're going to Diagon Alley this afternoon."

"Right."

She gave him another glance as she stopped with her hand on the doorframe, her exit letting in the smells of breakfast. "Ron and I are always here, Harry."

Closing the door behind her, Harry let his head fall against the windowsill, feeling strangely at rest since the beginning of the night.


	3. From Alley to Hollow

"Let's go!_ Let's go!_ Oh, I have so many things to get…" Hermione was yelling and muttering from the bottom of the staircase, digging through her bag as she waited for the two boys. Strangely enough, they weren't boys anymore, and Hermione was no longer a girl. As she had yet to turn seventeen, she was still in the same area of attention the boys received. She had started to notice this while she was in Italy, as well as London. She had her father's height, that only put her about four inches below Harry and Ron, as well as her mother's hair, which she was glad to see was working itself out of its bushiness.

Before leaving her home in Kent, her mother gave her wizard coming-of-age gift, not wanting her to be without it until her birthday in September. It was the locket that she had been wearing every day since; one of antique sliver that almost looked gold in some places. It was an oval and comparable to the size of a quarter, and a thick round strand of silver with a lobster clasp and engravings strangely matching the vines that wound up around her own wand.

"It's never been opened, maybe with your magic…you'll be able to when you're ready," said Mrs. Granger quietly as she fitted the necklace around her daughter's neck, with Mr. Granger looking on. Since then Hermione had never taken it off. She felt if she did, she would lose connection with her family, or the memory of them watching her leave on the Knight Bus for Grimmuald Place.

Hermione hadn't kidded herself after fifth year. She had developed an exercise regimen that she was somehow able to fit into her summer and sixth year. During the attack that took place in Hogwarts that spring, she had thanked Harry's Felix Felicis as well as her endurance. She had noticed the change in her demeanor as well. It had caught her by surprise as she found herself dealing head-on with her aunts' death, as well as facing Ron and Harry again.

It had suddenly occurred to her that the pressure that settled around them all; a pressure that she was sure was similar to what Harry was going through since he witnessed Voldemort's resurrection. The same fear and dread that affected her at her family level gave her perspective and a hardening realization; beyond her own family, Ron and Harry meant everything to her. She knew that she would defend them in every possible way known to herself. It was a stressed determination, and she began to find her early morning runs to be therapeutic.

She always thought about Harry and Ron. Every moment in Italy and every day that she spent with her parents in the summers before. She would sit in the shade of the cafés and wonder what they were doing, how they were coping. Hermione never really took the time to think about why, but as they bounded down the stairs while pulling on their coats, the same rush of emotions came over her every time she came back to school and found them waiting for her.

Ron was miles away in appearance since the first time she met him on the Hogwarts Express, and in the opinion of some fourth years last term, was becoming something of a dreamboat. His figure was something she found herself staring at, but then her head shook clear once his mouth opened. She had found him damned exasperating at times, but still endearing. Despite his attempts in the past to get her attention, she had been flattered, but fed up with the amount of effort that it took and the mortification of the tactics. In the end, she just wished for something simple; something unembarrassed, sure, and true. She didn't know if it was with Ron, but she figured she would know it was right by the feelings when it happened.

As for Harry.... Hermione watched him as he unconsciously tried to flatten his hair over his scar while trailing Ron. She didn't know how to feel about Harry anymore. There was a bond of worry, protectiveness, fear, sadness, and so many other things that she decided her mind would only end up confused if she examined them all. His appearance when she first arrived at Grimmuald was what startled her, not the fact that he was about to bowl her over by coming down the stairs too fast. He was relieved; an expression that she thought his face hadn't experienced in a long time and didn't know what to do with.

The look on his face that she was always familiar with was drawn and closed. She had always been appalled at the way the girls in Hogwarts gushed over his 'dark and mysterious' demeanor, and she had concluded that any form of reality concerning Harry obviously soared over their heads.

He had told the truth from the beginning, and still somehow people adored his suffering appeal. What Hermione saw was something scarier than that; a haunting shadow that kept growing everywhere he looked, and never daring to bring anyone else into it. It was a sort of nobility that she admired, but also knew it as one of his biggest faults. She saw at times that he realized this, but she also saw he would always need Ron and her there to tell him otherwise. In the end, all that Hermione knew was helping was for her to be there for him.

She was never good with feelings, so as the familiar emotions took over, she pulled her jacket closed and focused on digging through her bag, blinking back tears.

Ron thudded to the floor, "Right! Leaky Cauldron then?" He gave them a rougish wink and disapparated.

She started for the stairs, trying not to look up. "You go on Harry, I left my money in my trunk…"

"Really?" he asked simply. She had passed him on the stair and stopped.

"I'll just be a sec."

Harry adjusted his glasses, "Or maybe you need a moment. For everything to sink in?"

Hermione finally turned to look at him from three stairs up. Her shoulders sunk and she was contemplating digging through her bag again. Since that distraction had failed before, she thought better of it.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" he replied, curious.

"I can't even begin to imagine what going back to Hogwarts means for you. I…I don't know if I'm giving you a hard time by giving you all of this advice when I know nothing of it."

Harry had a bewildered look on his face. "You think about this all the time, don't you?"

She nodded slowly. Neither of them spoke for a moment, then:

"Hermione, I have never told you or Ron straight out, but…I'm glad you're here, I _need_ you here. Whatever it is you say, I know it's because you care."

Hermione wiped her eyes gave a half smile. Her voice was a helpless laugh and a whisper, "How many years have I been trying to tell you that?"

"Cummon," he said smiling back while extending a hand up to her, "I'm not leaving without you."

She smiled and thought of the Leaky Cauldron while taking his hand, and the two disappeared with a muted _pop_.

Ron was waiting at the bar, finishing off a butterbeer and turning to them just after dropping hands. "'Bout time. What took you?"

"Hermione forgot something," Harry said simply.

Ron didn't seem believe the answer straightaway, and Harry saw his eyes narrow slightly, "What did you forget?"

Hermione had regained her composure again, and asked herself the question of why she was lying to Ron when she replied, "I needed to send a letter to my parents. They have a right to know that I made Head Girl, don't they?"

Ron handed over a few knuts to Tom, "Sure, since you deserve it. Did you ever have any doubt?" He meant for it to be a compliment, but it obviously soared over Hermione's line of thought.

"I don't like to assume, _Ron_," She replied with a snap.

Harry jumped in, "Why don't we get going? I still need to get back in time to catch Lupin."

"Catch Lupin for what?" asked Ron. He was giving Hermione a hurt and questioning look.

"I'm going to Godric's Hollow tonight."

"What!" barked Hermione. Ron suddenly snapped his attention to Harry.

"Not without us, mate."

"Sorry you two, not this time," Harry said as he opened the back door of the tavern. Ron and Hermione were hot on his heels as he was tapping the bricks on the wall.

"Harry! We agreed- we're going with you-"

He suddenly turned around as the archway opened up. "Listen, this is something I need to do by myself. Lupin's agreed to go with me, I'll be alright, okay?"

Ron was studying him with concern, "You sure?"

Harry realized he had tensed up. He let his shoulders slump as he nodded. Hermione was biting her lip and Ron awkwardly had his hands in his pockets and was staring at Diagon Alley behind Harry.

"Well, lets get to it then," Ron said finally, and headed down the alleyway.

They had a longer list than usual for supplies, and some interesting new ingredients for potions as well. Hermione was pouring over her list as she stalked the shelves in a new establishment that popped up in the area. Like the Weasley twins, some other businesses saw the benefit of being the only supplier in a location that was as popular as Diagon Alley. Hermione had contemplated going in, until Harry pointed out that there was no place else to go for their supplies at the time.

"Fathead minnow eyes…snozberry leaves…ancient sandstone powder…" she was going down the list and crossing things off while placing them in the basket that Ron was carrying beside her. As Hermione was concentrating, Ron was trying to talk to her while Harry was meandering in the other isles.

"Hermione…"

"Moraine dust…"

"I was wondering…"

"Chili seedlings…"

"When Harry's at Godric's Hollow-"

"Pumpkin skins?"

"That we could slip out for-"

"Dragonfly thoraxes…"

"-a bite to eat, or something…"

He had finally gained her attention as she slipped the last vial into the basket.

"What? Oh, umm…" Surprisingly, Hermione felt herself not being interested and had wholly intended to convince Harry that they both would go along with him to Godric's Hollow. She mulled the intention over in her head.

_He'll be with Lupin and he probably just wants some time to get to know his parents_…she thought to herself. Nonetheless, she still wanted to be there.

_Don't be silly, everyone needs time alone. _She looked back at Ron's nervous smile and said;

"Well, alright…but someplace close by-"

Ron's eyes lit up and he nearly dropped the basket that she had meticulously filled. "Great! Great, so after we get back, then?"

Hermione felt nervous, but told herself that it was merely because she was worried about Harry being at Godric's Hollow without them. She realized though that she hadn't had much time with Ron since he had returned, and found it to be the perfect opportunity.

She brought up a smile, "Sure, Ron."

* * *

They apparated into the library of Grimmuald Place and sank onto the couches and chairs, letting their bags fall to the floor. Hermione's items had far outnumbered the two boys' as usual, and the boys took it upon themselves to load up on a few of Fred and George's new line of products.

They had purchased distracters, darkness powder, and a vial of veratiserum, as the potion itself took too long to make in time for the school year. They sat exhausted for a few moments and then noticed that smells were coming in from the kitchen.

Hermione raised her head off the couch and looked down the hallway towards the kitchen archway, "Really Harry, does Dobby actually take his vacation time?"

Harry grinned, "I told him if he didn't that he could use it to retire early."

"Like that's ever going to happen," said Ron while rolling his eyes. "You probably made his eyes pop out of his head saying that."

The trio laughed and got up to head for the kitchen, but stopped when two figures came out of the archway and headed towards them.

Mrs. Weasley dusted off her hands on her apron and waved them into the kitchen. "There you are dears, I thought I heard you apparate in. Ginny just arrived!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione finally realized they had been staring at Ginny the entire time. She stepped out from the shadow of the hallway next to her mother and smiled at them. Ginny had cut off her long plait of hair into something of a short bob and was wearing a neat blouse and skirt with a traveling cloak.

"What on earth are you three staring at?" she asked teasingly.

"Where'd your hair go?" asked Ron immediately.

"It was getting in my way," she replied simply as she tucked a strand behind her ear.

Hermione walked up and gave her a hug in welcome. "Well, I like it…but I honestly didn't recognize you! How was the internship at the ministry?"

Ginny shot a warm smile at Harry over her shoulder as she walked with Hermione into the kitchen. "Weird. Long periods of insane boredom and then all of a sudden aurors would disapparate in the middle of a briefing and the ministry would be in an uproar!"

"Doing what?" asked Harry as he sat down at the table next to Ron. His stomach was clenching uncomfortably since he had first seen her step out from the shadows.

"They don't tell us much at the Department of International Magical Cooperation. All of the action is on the first floor, in the Department of Mysteries, where the Wizengamot have their meetings. Daily now, last I could tell."

Harry stared at his fork as Molly magicked the food onto the long oak table.

"Help Dad out much?" asked Ron as he reached for the potatoes.

"No, but Percy was only a few desks away from me. Could tell you how fun _that_ was."

Ron snorted in reply. It had been nearly two years now since Percy had left the family's good graces. Harry had hoped last year when Scrimgeour made a visit that Percy would at least make an effort. But stubbornness was rampant amongst the Weasley's, so Harry was starting to see.

"How are you Harry?" asked Ginny, interrupting his thoughts.

He looked up from his still empty plate, noticing that Ron and Hermione we're trying to busy themselves with side conversation. Hermione was unconsciously re-buttering her bread and adamantly talking about quidditch with Ron; something that seemed to throw him for a loop.

"Things are okay. We just got supplies from Diagon Alley."

Ginny's eyebrows raised, "Really? And Bill and Phlegm's wedding?"

Mrs. Weasley sat down next to her daughter muttering, "For the hundredth time, stop calling her that." Ginny rolled her eyes in reply.

Harry felt on the spot, both Ginny and Molly looking expectantly at him from across the table. He wished that there was a signal to send to Ron or Hermione to help him out, but he hadn't honestly thought about attending Bill and Fleur's wedding.

"Yeah, I'll be there," he said finally.

Mrs. Weasley gave him a smile, "Oh that's good Harry, I know you and Remus-"

"Mrs. Weasley, could you pass the salad?" interrupted Hermione, who finally noticed Harry's state. "The roast is really good by the way, is it the usual Weasley family secret?"

As the distraction worked, Ginny looked around the table as if to gain an explanation. The dinner wore on and Harry could hardly muster up any appetite as he thought about his trip to Godric's Hollow. He had planned on spending a few days there, possibly to gather some information within the village. But what he wanted most was to know his parents, and not with the discomfort of other people around.

Remus had returned to Grimmuald, and Harry could see his shadow hanging up his cloak out in the hallway. He quickly excused himself from the table and went out to the foyer. Remus was leaning on the banister and writing notes down on a piece of parchment, he turned around upon hearing Harry approach.

"Well, good evening Harry," he said while sealing up the parchment and banishing it. "For McGonagall," Lupin replied to Harry's questioning look.

"I haven't seen you in awhile, everything going alright?"

Lupin smiled as he was used to Harry prying for the latest information about the Order, "You're good at that, making it sound like regular conversation and all…"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "Always worth a shot. Thanks for coming."

"Of course. I'm guessing Ron and Hermione aren't coming then," he asked while peering around the corner. Hermione was pushing peas around on her plate and Ron was still asking Ginny why she thought her haircut would look good.

Harry nervously ran a hand through his hair, "I don't think that it's something that they need to be there for. They need to get out of here anyway. I should probably say goodbye real quick." But as he turned around to re-enter the kitchen, he saw the two standing there.

"Well, be careful mate. You don't want me coming over there to save you," Ron replied while trying to lighten the mood.

"No, I wouldn't want that," Harry agreed with a grin.

Hermione was looking at him with a worried expression, "When do you plan on returning?"

"I don't know, but I'll try to be back before Bill and Fleur's wedding," he said while pulling on his coat and slinging a bag over his shoulder. Hermione merely nodded in return.

"Well, since you've never been to Godric's Hollow, take my arm."

As Harry did so, he saw Hermione mouth the words 'Be careful.' He gave her a nod in reply and in a sudden twisting movement they left Grimmuald Place.

Ron and Hermione were looking at the spot where the two were just a moment before. Ron looked over and saw the worried expression still on her face. "He'll be alright," he said softly.

Hermione sighed and nodded, "Sure… Well, how about that drink, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron grinned and held out his arm, leading her into the library to use the floo.


	4. Memora Activated

The road they apparated to was at the crest of a hill, overlooking a small fishing town. The sun was low on the horizon and the sea air immediately hit his senses. The street was lined with homes that were shaded by large willows and lush overgrown hedges and the setting sun highlighted the boats that sat at the docks and the roofs of the markets below.

"You have the same look on your face that your parents had when they first arrived here," commented Remus. "When they were looking for homes." He pulled an old notebook out from his robes. Flipping through the yellowed pages he found an entry, and then handed it to Harry. It read:

_Under a twisted marble willow_

_Two twins hang in the night_

_Godric's Hollow solves the riddle_

_While gardeners' home reveals the light._

Harry gave Lupin a confused look. "What does that mean?"

"Since you've never been to Godric's Hollow, this is the description. Number twenty-two, Marble Willow lane." He pointed at the last line in Harry's hand and then to a place in the distance, "The house of Potter, obviously."

Harry saw a house that he had not seen before. It was a modest bungalow that sat apart from the rest. He and Remus started up the lane as Lupin spoke quietly, "After Sirius died, I took it upon myself to secure the safety of your parents' home. I knew that someday you would like to see it. I chose a passage from your mother's poetry so that you may allow whomever to visit, just by showing them the text. I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of becoming your secret keeper. We had to act fast after Dumbledore's death."

They walked along in silence for a moment, until Harry started leafing through the notebook absentmindedly. "Thanks Remus. I would've chosen you to be the secret keeper anyway."

"That's a comforting thought."

The two continued with scattered conversation until reaching the front of the house. The white paint was peeling and the once vibrant blue shutters had now faded into a softer hue. The trees around it were enormous, but not enough to block out the view of the ocean and the town below.

Lupin drew out an old bronze key from his robes and unlocked the door. There was a quiet sequence of tumbling locks and latches as the handle finally gave way. As he pushed the heavy oak door inward, a warm scent of sandalwood, pine, and oak hit Harry's senses and was immediately reminded of the forbidden forest, Hermione- oddly enough, and late night tea that they used to have with Hagrid in their early years of Hogwarts. His eyes adjusted to the shadows and saw the wood flooring of the foyer.

Long rays of sunlight cut through the dust in the air, and much of the furniture was covered with bedsheets. Lupin flicked his wand in an odd way, and the sheets snapped into nothingness. The furniture wasn't anything fancy, in fact, Harry was reminded of the Gryffindor common room; dark wood and overstuffed worn leather.

To his left was the den, complete with bookcases covering the walls and a large desk. To his right was a small hallway leading to the kitchen with its old black stove. Beyond that was a sitting room that overlooked the ocean view. Harry stepped back into the foyer and saw the stairway that led upstairs.

"Would you like me to go with you?" asked Lupin.

Harry paused, "I…no. I think I need to do this alone…" Remus nodded and wandered off into the study, leaving Harry to stare at the stairs leading upwards.

_(Where was my father when Riddle came up these steps? What was my mother thinking as she heard him come closer?)_

He could not help the thoughts that suddenly came to his head. He envisioned Voldemort with all the confidence in the world as he slowly walked up the oak stairs. He saw James on the floor in the study next to the overturned chair he had just gotten out of. He could imagine the neighbors cocking their ears to the strange sounds that were suddenly heard, looking up at the starry night sky.

Harry snapped his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, trying to force out the vision of the candles in the house being snuffed out. As his foot hit the first stair, the scent of sandalwood hit him again, calming him. He opened his eyes and continued upwards, reaching the landing. Directly in front of him was a blue tiled bathroom with a beautiful oval window, overlooking the cove. To the left was his parent's room. The door was ajar and Harry could see his mother's vanity and the large oak bed.

To his right was another room, but the door had been shut. Harry tensed a little as he took the bronze knob in his hand. He paused in the same spot where Riddle had paused 16 years ago; feeling his lip curl in a sneer as the mudblood was whispering to her child.

He opened the door and found it dark; a woman was standing over a crib with her back to him.

"How appropriate to say your last goodbye," came a hiss of a voice.

Harry could see his mother's long hair flowing around her shoulders and tickling his cheeks. She had a tremendously sad smile on her lips as she looked down at him in her arms.

"I love you, Harry," she whispered.

* * *

Someone was shaking him.

"Harry."

His eyes snapped open and found himself looking up at Lupin who was crouched over him. "What happened?"

Harry rubbed his eyes and looked around the room, "I dunno, I was seeing- I thought I was just picturing what happened, but when I came in here-" He felt helpless in explaining. Lupin nodded calmly.

"You saw how your parents died."

"Yes," Harry whispered, avoiding his eyes. As he sat up, Harry saw that the room they were in was quite bare, except for a wardrobe the only other furniture was a crib that sat close to the windows.

"How are you feeling?"

"I just need a minute." Harry sat on the floorboards of the room, thinking. Were the images real? Was it another ploy from Riddle? _No_, he thought, _this was different_. In his past trip with Dumbledore to recover a supposed horcrux, he had mentioned that over time, witches and wizards could detect magic. His parents' house was magical, but Harry could not pinpoint how exactly. At least, not yet.

"If you want to stay for a few days, the house is under protection. But in fairness of Mrs. Weasley's sanity, may I recommend myself to keep you company?" Lupin asked with a small grin.

After a few moments of Remus patiently waiting, Harry realized that he didn't want to be alone all the time. "No, that's okay. Maybe I'll send word to Ron and Hermione, but you don't have to stay here beyond tonight. I know you have things to do for the Order."

Lupin regarded him for a moment, but nodded. The sun had set outside, and dusk was stretching long red fingers over the horizon. He headed out of the room, and soon Harry could hear him preparing tea in the kitchen below him.

Harry sighed. He had no idea how Godric's Hollow was going to feel, but all of a sudden he felt lonely. His parent's home was almost devoid of furniture or anything personal for that matter. There was nothing to tell him about his family, nothing he could identify with. He stared out the windows until the night sky took over.

He arose the next morning, surprised that he had slept through the entire night without a nightmare or mysterious feeling jerking him awake. He padded silently downstairs, only to find Lupin in front of the fireplace in the main room, looking over a Daily Prophet.

"Morning," Remus replied while motioning to some leftover eggs that were continuously grilling on the stove. "I guess you didn't hear the howler that Mrs. Weasley sent this morning?" he asked with a grim smile.

"Did you tell her that you weren't staying?"

"No, but by the time she heard that I was to be stationed in Berlin for the next few days, she pieced it together."

Harry gave him an apologetic smile as he scooped out eggs and curiously sniffed the brewing coffee. "I'll talk to her."

Lupin was gazing out the window at the cove and the rising sun. "I remember having spent a Christmas here with Lily and James right after when they bought this place…" he was startled to see things seemingly apparate onto the walls and into the bookshelves.

Harry dropped his fork and instinctively reached for his wand.

"Ah! I almost forgot that Dumbledore put a Memora charm on the house," said Lupin.

"A w-what?" Harry said, bewildered and trying to choke down the eggs in his throat.

"Well, when Voldemort attacked you and your parents, this house was almost completely destroyed. Hagrid saved you before it collapsed on itself, but Dumbledore performed the charm- restoring the house to what it once was. Seeing although, that he had never actually been inside, there was little that he could restore it to. The Memora charm acts as a link between the present and the past in someone's memories, particularly when remembering what things were like." Lupin smiled at Harry and said knowingly, "There is more to this house that what meets the eye."

Harry was curious about the town, "Did my parents know anyone around here?"

Lupin frowned. "I didn't meet anyone while visiting Lily and James, but they did talk of a man down in the harbor, by name of Luka… a fisherman."

"Luka. That's all?"

"I'm sorry that I can't be more of help."

Harry shrugged off the apology, "No, that's okay. I'm glad you could remember that. Thanks for all of your help, Remus."

Lupin smiled at the fact that Harry had finally used his first name.

"It's been my pleasure, Harry."

* * *

Harry had just watched Lupin walk out to the foyer, cloak in hand while turning on the spot; managing to do a little wave to Harry, showing his note to Ron and Hermione in hand.

He now turned inside to the quiet house and sat down in the study to look over the book that Hermione had given him. Harry was a little hesitant after hearing from Ron about the book that you could never stop reading, so he performed same charm that Hermione had done the previous year with his potions text.

"Specialis Revielo!"

The linen slid off the book like a second skin, and Harry could hear the faint hiss over the voice that only a Parseltounge could hear:

"_Brothers of the Basilisk, welcome."_

Harry looked grimly at the binding of the book that doubled in size in front of him. Apparently, there was more to this than what Hermione could read. Since last reading it, all that Harry had managed was a few chapters, describing the backstories of the now-historical Slytherin family. The language that Harry was reading was confusing, as it also included lavish praises on the pureblood lines that made Harry roll his eyes until they hurt. He was about five minutes into reading about another pureblood wizard who was looking equally uninteresting as the rest, when he heard a soft _pop!_

Harry went out into the foyer and saw Hermione, standing with her back to him while looking around in the kitchen.

"Hello," said Harry.

She nearly jumped a foot while whirling around, a look of surprise and sheepishness on her face. "Geez! I almost prefer Grimmuald where you could hear everyone coming."

He gave her a smile, "Where's Ron?"

Hermione set her bag on a bench that Harry knew he hadn't seen before. "He got dragged off by Mrs. Weasley to help with the wedding. I was staying behind for researching, but that's when Lupin arrived with your letter. What's the matter? I thought you said you wanted a few days to yourself?" she asked, studying him like she had last year. He recognized the appraising look, but also one mixed with concern.

"I did, but I knew that Lupin had work to do for the Order…it's just, coming back here is…surreal, you know?" he ran his hands through his hair, uncomfortable with admitting that an empty house unnerved him.

She merely nodded. They stood in silence for a moment until Harry said, "Why don't I show you around?"

Hermione slipped off her shoes and placed them near the front door. Harry chuckled. "You don't have to do that, I run a different house than my aunt Petunia."

She hid a smile, "Well it's worth it to get you to laugh."

As Harry showed her around the home; she was quiet, especially in Harry's room.

"I thought Dumbledore said this place burned down?"

"It did, but he restored it, as well as placing a sort of- I dunno, replenishing charm?"

Hermione's light bulb went on; "Oh! A Memora charm?"

"Can't get anything past you," quipped Harry. Hermione gave him a mischievous smile with a look of suddenly remembering something. She pulled out a cube-like object from her pocket and pointed her wand at it. It suddenly expanded until it was a teetering pile of books that Harry rushed over to help her steady.

"I hope these are all worth it," he said, while the two of them were walking backwards into the den.

"Of course they are! You don't think I idly pick my reading material these days, do you?" she said with a laugh.

Harry tried to smile but suddenly had a guilty feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach again. _Things shouldn't have to be this way_, he thought. He should enjoy his time with his friends, and them as well. His parents' house should be a retreat from Grimmuald rather than another reminder of what they still had to overcome. He was looking at the tower of books that they had now placed on the floor; glancing over the spine of _Antidotes for the Articulate_ and wishing nothing more than to run away from all of this.

"Don't, Harry," whispered Hermione. She had been watching his mood change, and seemingly the thoughts that ran across his mind as well.

He didn't look at her. "You want some tea or somethin'?"

Hermione placed a hand on his arm and caught his eye like she had in Grimmuald Place. She gave an understanding smile that Harry desired to see. "Sure."

He realized that Hermione's smiles held great and underlying emotions in them. He saw understanding, but also support, patience, and fortitude. It was a look that said; _Sure, I'll have tea, only if you promise me to believe in yourself first._

A few minutes later he called from the kitchen, "I took a look at the book you gave me- not much so far."

"What's it about?" she called back from the living room. Harry could see her examining the photos along the wall.

"Just about ancient Slytherin-type sorcerers. There's a lot to it though; the book just about doubled in size when I spoke to it." The two talked through the afternoon, discussing everything from the upcoming wedding, to Hogwarts, and even Ginny.

"She was a bit confused about you at dinner…"

Harry ran his hand nervously through his hair, "Yeah, well, same here…I dunno, I just- I just feel that I can't be with anyone- that there's no room in my life for a relationship."

He sighed and looked at Hermione. There was a silence for a few minutes until he found the right words. "Things have changed so much since my time with Ginny… I just don't feel like the same person, and I don't think that being together would… make me happy. And if I can't give her what she deserves… then there's no real reason to hold her back."

It was the first time that he actually analyzed his thoughts about the way he felt about Ginny, and was a little horrified and yet relieved that he had said it aloud. When he was leaning over Dumbledore at the base of the Astronomy tower, he felt that feeling and so many others had drained away. Even the support that Ginny gave him felt vacant and distant to him. In the days afterward he thought that it was just his way of healing, but when he found no comfort in being with her, his heart sank.

"Please don't say anything, I just need a time to talk to her… when I'm ready."

"Of course, Harry."


End file.
